


The Bastard's Queen

by Kay_Right



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), song of ice
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-01 06:46:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16760041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kay_Right/pseuds/Kay_Right
Summary: An alternate timeline where Ned doesn't warn Cersei he discovered her secret. Robert survives and the king's bastards are brought to court. When war still seems inevitable, Gendry and Arya will have to choose between the realm and their freedom. All characters are aged up.





	1. Ned - 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story draws from both the show and the books basically at my discretion. All characters are aged up and I didn't necessarily age them up proportionally, so sorry if that annoys you! Below are the ages of the main characters of this story at the start but they will be aging along with the plot. I'm hoping to update this weekly, but feel free to bother me if I don't. I probably didn't forget I'm just being lazy.
> 
> Arya (13), Gendry (15), Edric (13), Frayrid (OC) (14), Sansa (15)
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing from the original plot.

_Eddard Stark_

* * *

Quickly Lord Eddard Stark strode through the halls of the Red Keep. The king had just returned from his hunting trip yesternight and Ned needed to speak with him immediately.

Ned had finally discovered the secret Jon Arryn had died for – the Lannister’s incest and the offspring the affair had wrought. Ned had his suspicions for weeks, but it was Sansa’s off-handed comment that had finally pushed him over the edge. Even Sansa, a child, could see Joffrey did not share King Robert Baratheon’s blood. Why had it taken him so long to realize? He had known of Jon Arryn's research, looked at the books and seen Robert’s bastards with his own eyes. Cersei played games with her little birds all over the castle, all the while, hiding the truth right in front of him. He had been blind for so long, but now he could see and he would not allow the deceit to continue. 

“I need to speak with, Robert,” Ned said as he approached the two guards standing outside the king’s bedchambers.

Unenthusiastically one of the guards looked at him and said, “He is asleep, my lord. He returned late in the evening.”

“This is urgent,” Ned said, “and I don’t mind if he hasn't dressed for the day. It is far more important that I have him sober and clear-headed.”

“He does not like to be awakened,” said the other guard just as hesitant as the first.

“I am the king's Hand. I have told you I have an urgent need to see the king,” Ned said raising his voice. He felt uncomfortable using his title, but he employed it nonetheless. “Now, step aside.”

“Yes, my lord,” said the first guard. Both guards begrudgingly moved away.

Ned walked into the room wearily. His leg still ached from the Lannister’s attack days prior, but the thought of his men lying dead on the floor fueled his resolve to enter the King’s bedchambers and face whatever Robert’s wrath might entail.

First, though he had to rouse Robert. Ned knew that Robert was likely engaging in some form of debauchery the night before and Ned did not wish to behold any of the horrors the morning after brought.

Ned was unsurprised to see Robert in bed still asleep. However, he was stunned to see not one but two naked women lying next to Robert. Both women, who looked at least half Robert’s age, were soundly asleep.

“Robert,” Ned said to wake him. When he didn’t stir, Ned tried again in a louder voice. Finally, on his third attempt, one of the women woke up to the noise. When her eyes cleared of sleep, she noticed Ned standing above her and screamed.

Ned considered quieting her down but decided against it when he realized the sound was causing Robert to groan. “Quiet girl, what are you shrieking for?”

“Robert,” Ned said. “Wake up I need to discuss something with you…privately.”

“Ned?” Robert said sitting up. Ned turned away as the blankets fell away from him and the two girls. “Bloody hell, Ned, what are you doing here?”

“We need to speak, urgently,” Ned said.

“It can wait a few hours,” Robert said. “I had plans to take these two again in the morning.”

“No,” Ned said. “This cannot wait.”

“Fine,” Robert said. He turned to the women and told them bluntly to get out. As the women dressed, Robert got out of bed and pulled on a robe.

“Now, what is it you wanted to discuss,” Robert said as he went to sit at his desk. “Shall we have some servants bring us wine?”

“I have bad news to deliver, your grace,” Ned said sitting down across from Robert.

“What news is this?”

“It concerns your lady-wife,” Ned started slowly.

“Good lords,” Robert said angrily, “what has she done now?”

“Robert, she’s been having an affair,” Ned said.

Robert sighed and then responded, “I suppose as long as she isn’t pregnant we can keep operating as normal. We’ll have to send the man to take the black, of course. Who was the man? And who knows of this?”

“Just me, but I’m afraid it is not that simple,” Ned said.

“Well, don’t keep me guessing, Ned. It’s fucking. It’s not that complicated,” Robert said now getting red in the face. “And blasted hell tell me who has been fucking my wife.”

“It’s Jaime Lannister and I believe they have had an affair since your marriage first began.”

Robert paused for a moment and then started laughing. “Jaime Lannister. Why that’s her brother, Ned.”

“I am aware,” Ned said. “Robert, Jon Arryn didn’t just die he was murdered. We received a letter from Catelyn’s sister just days after his death warning us. Since then, I have heard murmurs around the castle of the same rumors. His last words were ‘the seed is strong’ and he was researching your children before his death.” 

Ned took a breath pausing before he delivered the final blow. Ned strongly considered what it might mean for the children and mother if the true horrors of Cersei’s actions were revealed. The honorable action would have been to warn her giving her a chance to flee, but with Tywin raising an army it was too dangerous. Instead, he took all precautions possible to avoid Cersei’s suspicions. He had even delayed his daughters’ departure back to Winterfell. All he could do now was hope Robert would be merciful.

“I believe Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen are not your true offspring, but instead Jaime and Cersei Lannister’s incest-born bastards,” Ned said. He pulled out _The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms_. “Not a single Baratheon has ever been born blond even when born from a Lannister as well. Robert, I found all of your bastards and they are all the spitting image of you. The children living in this palace look nothing like you. Instead, they are mirrors of the Lannister’s. Think about when they arrived. Were they just a little early? I doubt Cersei seeks you out too often, but did she just three times and immediately conceive?”

“What you speak off is true,” Robert said looking pale and confused. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean Jaime…”

“No, but Bran and the dagger,” Ned told him. “Bran is an excellent climber. He has never fallen. I believe he was pushed. However, even if he had fallen, why was someone sent to kill my son with a Lannister dagger. He must have seen something and the only man from your party close to the Queen was her brother Jaime. They aren’t yours, Robert. Those children are not yours.”

“I will kill them for this,” the king yelled. He flung the contents of the desk to the floor. He slammed his fists on the desk and was panting hard. “The throne is currently being left to Joffrey a bastard and result of incest. The Lannister’s have made an embarrassment of me.”

“Cersei and Jaime must be punished and stripped of her title,” Ned said nodding and trying to push him away from spilling blood. He was unsure whom Robert was referring too, but he needed to spare the children. Robert may have been within his rights to kill them, but children could not stop the actions of their parents. “The boys should be sent to the Wall.”

“You would have me show mercy? This is treason,” Robert yelled. “They could make a claim to the throne. They cannot live.”

“Cersei and Jaime are no threat without their children,” Ned said. “The brothers are in desperate need of men. If the boys are on the Wall and they do leave, they’d truly be traitors of their own rights not that of their parents.”

“And the girl?” Robert asked still yelling and furious. “I suppose you’d have me spare her too but even you’d agree she can’t be sent to live with an army of men.”

Ned nodded. The Wall would be good for the boys. As brothers, they could make no claim to the throne or have children to make such a claim in the future. However, the Wall was no place for a girl, especially one as fair as Myrcella. She couldn’t remain at court. They could send her to live with a lower lord, but even that opened them up to the threat of her sons one day making an attempt at the throne. They needed her out of Westeros.

“You could banish her,” Ned said. He wasn’t sure Robert would agree but it was the only solution he could think of. “Send her to the Free Cities with a small sum just enough to live off of. She’ll need a guardian. Perhaps, her mother?”

“No, Cersei will not have freedom even in banishment,” Robert said yelled. “Jamie will also face the sword, so don’t even try it, Ned.”

“What of Tyrion?” Ned asked. The man was currently in Catelyn’s possession likely for the actions of his brother and sister. Tyrion, like the children, could have no place at court and would be lucky to even survive this whole ordeal.

“The imp,” Robert huffed. “At least she didn’t fuck him too.”

“Myrcella is just a child. Tyrion will keep her safe, but in the Free Cities she will be no lady nor have a claim to the throne,” Ned pleaded. “Do not punish the children for the parent’s crimes. We are not in a war.”

“But we bloody well might be with these Lannister’s and their tricks,” Robert yelled.

“Not if you act quickly. Send the children away,” Ned said. “Take the parents as prisoners and do with them what you must.”

“She’s made a fool of me,” Robert said.

“She has. The children have not.”

“Fine, we’ll do it your way. The boys will be given the option to take the black and the girl will be sent East, but if they refuse they die,” Robert said solemnly. “Ned, take care of it. I never want to see any of them again. The parents will face the executioner. Take the guard and do it now, Ned. There is no reason to wait.”

Ned took his orders and strode from the room. He quickly gathered the remaining members of his men along with fifty gold cloaks. He then called on Ser Barristan Selmy and Renly Baratheon to be present for the confrontation. They both had a true allegiance to the king, which could prove useful.

Once the group was assembled, he told twenty of his men to gather the children and put them in a secure room with guards on it at all times. Barristan was sent with half the gold cloaks to take Jaime. Renly and Ned headed towards Cersei’s rooms.

She was sitting comfortably looking out her window when they entered her large apartment. At the noise, she turned her graceful neck and eyed them all with a hard, curious look.

“What is the meaning of this?” she asked calmly.

“Guards, seize the Queen,” Ned said coolly. “She is guilty of treason.”

“Treason,” Cersei said still calm. “And what treason would that be?”

“The same crime Ser Barristan is currently arresting your brother for. Or should I say lover?” Ned said. Cersei paused for a moment. Her eyes flickered between Ned, Renly and the guards. Ned could practically see her running calculations in her head trying to find a way out. “We know it’s accurate. You cannot escape this truth.”

Cersei lifted her chin and looked Ned straight in the eye. “Targaryen’s wed brother and sister for three hundred years to keep bloodlines pure. Jaime and I are more than brother and sister. We shared a womb together and we belong together.”

“You admit to this treachery?” Renly asked horrified. 

“I admit to bringing a worthy heir into this world,” Cersei said.

“He is no heir,” Ned responded. He indicated for the guards to grab Cersei. She didn’t put up a fight as they bound her hands.

“Don’t hurt my children,” Cersei said finally showing a moment of weakness.

“Our king is merciful and the gods are gracious,” Ned said. “Your children will be spared.”

Cersei didn’t respond. Instead, she quietly followed the guard as she was led to the dungeons. Ned followed them out and watched as Cersei’s form retreated down the hallway. He kept walking until he found Ser Barristan. Jaime had been successfully apprehended as well. Ned confirmed that the Lannister siblings would be put in different cells and then he made his way to the highest tower in Maegor’s Holdfast where the children were being held.

It was with a heavy heart that Ned opened the door to find Myrcella and Tommen crying together on the bed. Tommen was holding Myrcella to his chest. It took a moment for Ned to notice, Joffrey standing alone looking out the window. He had his back turned away from Ned but when he heard the door closed he turned to look at Ned with a glare.

“What is the meaning of this?” Joffrey said angrily.

“Children, you must remain in this room,” Ned said. He knew he had to tell them the truth. Cersei couldn’t be trusted and Robert wouldn’t carry the burden. “It isn’t safe for you at the moment.”

“Are…are we under attack?” Myrcella asked between sobs.

“No, my dear,” Ned said softly. “There has been a horrible thing done. It was done years ago, but unfortunately, you must now bear the brunt of it. You are being sent away.”

“Sent away?” Joffrey spit out. “We can’t be sent away. I am the prince.”

“You are no longer a prince,” Ned said. “None of you are the true heirs.”

“What? What is the meaning of this?” Joffrey asked. “This is treason. I wish to speak with my mother. She will have your head for this.”

Ned understood their disbelief but there could be no place for it. These children had to adapt and grow quickly. They didn’t have a choice.

“Your mother has been having an affair. All three of you are the offspring of that affair,” Ned told them bluntly. “She has admitted to it.”

“No,” Joffrey said. “I am the prince and heir to the throne. I will be king one day.”

“No,” Ned said. “You are a lion, but no stag blood runs through your veins. Only a stag will be king.”

“Where will you send us?” Tommen asked from the bed.

“You and Joffrey will be sent to the Wall to join the Night’s Watch. Myrcella will be sent to live in the Free Cities with her uncle Tyrion.”

“The Night’s Watch!?” Joffrey exclaimed. “I will do no such thing. Let me speak to my mother at once.”

“You will take the black or you will die. Your mother is already in the dungeons and will likely face execution,” Ned said.

Myrcella let out a cry and Ned felt guilt overcome him. Maybe he had made the wrong choice. Should he have let these children flee with their mother? It would have only required a warning. These children knew not the extent of their mother’s wrongs. They just saw men fighting over lineage and a throne. Ned walked over to the bed and took a seat. It was too late for a warning. He couldn’t change the past, but he could deal with the present.

“I am sorry, children,” Ned said softly to Tommen and Myrcella. “You are being handed a burden meant for your parents and that is truly unfair, but you will all go on to live. Even if it feels like a punishment, I promise you, it is a gift.”

“Please let us see our mother,” Tommen said quietly crying. “Even just to say goodbye.”

“I will try,” Ned said. He stood and headed towards the door. “Myrcella, we must await Tyrion’s return and, boys, we are expecting a brother any day now who will take you to the Wall. You will have meals sent up and I will check in on you daily, but you must remain in this room – anywhere else isn’t safe for you three.”

“You can’t lock us up in here like prisoners,” Joffrey yelled. Ned was already opening the door. He took a step out and closed the door to Joffrey’s yells.

“Check in on them every hour. If you need to separate Joffrey from the other two, do so,” Ned told the guards before turning away to walk briskly down the hall.

Ned tried to push away the sorrow he felt. Those children would live, but what kind of life, he wondered. Forever haunted by their parent’s sins. They were summer babes thrust into winter.

Ned walked to the king’s chambers for the second time that day. This time when he approached, the guards let him pass without question.

“It is done,” Ned said as soon as he entered the room.

Ned could smell liquor as he walked up to Robert. The room was a mess and multiple pieces of furniture had been destroyed. Robert sat stooped in his chair with a blade in his hand. He was running his fingers over the blade.

“My false wife and her unholy lover are dead?” Robert slurred.

“Not yet,” Ned said. At Robert’s glare, he continued, “They are in the dungeons. We must hold a small council to confirm their execution and then schedule it publically. We do not want the public to speculate that you simply grew tired of Cersei and decided to have her killed.”

“Always thinking you are, Ned,” Robert said throwing his knife on the table. “And the bastards?”

“They have been locked away,” Ned said. “I have informed them that they are not the true heirs and where they will be sent. As soon as their traveling companions arrive, they will leave King’s Landing.”

“I don’t want to see them ever again,” Robert said standing and seeming to sober.

“You won’t have to,” Ned said. He was both angry at Robert for his blindness and grateful for his compassion.

“And what of the throne?” Robert said pacing in front of his desk. “I’ll have to marry again and wait for her to conceive. The conceiving part I can do, but the waiting. Joff was nearly of age. If he wasn’t such a little shit, I might have given him the throne already. I don’t want to sit on this blasted thing for another twenty years, Ned!”

“There might be another solution,” Ned said.

“And what is that?”

“You have other children,” Ned said watching the king closely for his reaction. “Fourteen other children who are still alive.”

“Bastards all of them,” Robert said dismissively. “Who knows what kind of health or wisdom they have. We can’t make a king out of a bastard boy.”

“I have met some of them while searching for answers,” Ned said. “they are all strong and quite obviously carry the Baratheon blood in their veins. The boys are ready for battle and could lead easy enough and, if that doesn’t work, the girls are pretty and would marry nicely.”

“You suggest bringing fourteen bastard children to court to train and be prepared to marry off?” Robert questioned. “It’s madness, Ned.”

“There are three bastards in this castle being trained and married off now!” Ned slammed his fist down. Robert stilled at the outburst. “Winter is coming, Robert, and you need an heir. These children, the bastards, have a claim to the throne. If we wait, who knows what the realm might do. And, there’s another reason, in the time it takes to raise another child any of the Lannister bastards might try to make a claim for the throne.”

“They have no claim,” Robert argued.

“It is our word against theirs,” Ned said. “And we all know a true claim only goes as far as the largest army and deepest pockets.”

“Then we should kill them now,” Robert said.

“You are not a Targaryen. You are better,” Ned said. “Do not kill these children, Robert. If we have a stable ruler prepared to take the throne they are no threat.”

“Fourteen you said?” Robert asked.

“Yes, your grace,” Ned said. “There are fourteen in total. I believe they should all come to court secretly. We can inspect them and see who is capable. We don’t need them all to stay at the castle indefinitely. The babes should be sent back to their mother’s and the older ones can go back to their lives, but at least a few should be capable of being heirs and if you claim them they will have that right.”

“You’ve met them?” Robert asked.

Ned thought of Gendry’s face.

“They are yours true as can be,” Ned said with conviction.

“Fine, we will bring the bastards to court then,” Robert said. “Take care of this, Ned – immediately.”

“Yes, your grace,” Ned said with a nod of his head. “I’ll have them here at once.”


	2. Gendry - 1

_Gendry_

* * *

Gendry awoke in a soft, clean bed. The feather-stuffed mattress beneath him was still unfamiliar, and therefore the comfort that it was supposed to bring was tinged with a bizarre distaste. When Gendry was with Master Tobho Mott, he had slept on a cot with a thinly hay-stuffed mattress and an even thinner blanket to throw over himself. Before that, he had been sleeping on the streets. At the smith's shop, he had shared a room with the servants of the household. In this room, as he sat up, he looked around at all the empty space filled with nice furniture and lavish ornaments. The silence of being alone was defining and it was lonely. Gendry had never much liked spending time with his thoughts but here there was no one to hear and no one to listen to except oneself. 

It had been a fortnight since Lord Eddard Stark had entered master Tobho Mott's shop asking for Gendry. This was the second time he had appeared in front of Gendry, only this time he wasn't asking questions. He was making requests. Ned asked Gendry to follow him to the Red Keep, and Gendry wasn't about to say no to the Hand of the King. Of course, he had gone. It didn’t seem like he had much of a choice.

Ned had paid his master well for losing Gendry, but he refused to answer neither the master nor the apprentice's questions. It didn't stop Gendry from asking, of course. The whole way to the Keep, Gendry had asked plenty of questions the whole way, but Ned would simply look at him slowly and tell him he was needed at the palace. Ned had gently reassured him of his safety, but that seemed to be the only guarantee. Safe he was, but in all this time he had just as many questions and just as few answers as his first day he entered the Red Keep.

Each day he would wake up in the lavish bed, be delivered breakfast, and then be left alone until he was brought lunch. Ned Stark had come in a few times to ask about his wellbeing. Each time Gendry asked him questions, but Ned would just confirm that he was being treated properly and then retreat out the door.

Gendry heard a soft knock on the door. The servants carrying the food always knocked but still, it was such an oddity in his life and, out of instinct, he immediately looked up at the door startled by the noise. It was still strange giving someone permission to do anything, but he granted it, all the same, allowing the servant to enter the room. When the regular two boys entered, Gendry was surprised to see Ned following behind.

“Good morning, Gendry,” Ned said with a warm smile. “I apologize for calling so early.”

“Forgive me, m'lord,” Gendry said. “I 'ave not dressed for the day.”

“You must say it as 'my lord,' Gendry. It is important that you get that right,” Ned chastized. He had been correcting Gendry’s words each time he saw him. It annoyed Gendry, but he still worked to keep them as Lord Stark wanted and tried to cut down on his slang in his presence.

“My lord, right,” Gendry said. “I apologize, Lord Stark.”

“No need to apologize. Now, on to other things. It is fine that you haven’t fully awoken. The sun has barely risen,” Ned said. The boys moved around him. One of them put a tray of food on the table and the other ran to the attached washroom. “Your presence is needed today.”

“For what?” Gendry asked. He stood up from the bed letting his blanket fall. Gendry was unaccustomed to modesty. He had his breeches on which was more than enough to keep him hidden, he thought, but Ned still looked away.

“You are being presented to the king today,” Ned said plainly. He seemed to want to add more, but when Gendry gave him time to continue Ned remained quiet.

“I can’t see the King,” Gendry said finally. “I only got my smithers clothes and I wouldn’ know what to say.”

“You will not have to say anything,” Ned said. “And these two boys will help prepare you for the audience. You will have to look your best. I’m afraid, that may require some assistance.”

“Wha' are they going to do to me?” Gendry asked looking wearily at the two servant boys. Once Gendry focused on their actions, he noticed they had been furiously running about the room the whole time.

“They will help bath you, dress you and clean you up a bit. You look like you could use a bit of a shave, my boy,” Ned said tapping him lightly on the cheek. At Gendry’s perplexed look, Ned added, “They’re not going to hurt you.”

“I’m not so sure, my lord,” Gendry said making sure to get the title right.

“Well, whether you go willingly or they dress you by force,” Ned said with a boisterous laugh. “In two hours, the guards will bring you to see me and I expect you to be ready to see the King.”

“Yes, sir,” Gendry said.

“Good,” Ned said standing and walking to the door. “See you then, Gendry.”

Ned walked out the door closing it with a loud bang behind him. To Gendry, the sound felt like a closing a coffin locking him once again in the room. This time with the task of preparing to meet the king.

Gendry didn't have any idea what the king would want with him. He was just a bastard smith's apprentice from Flea’s Bottom. He served no purpose that would be of interest to lords and kings. Still, if Lord Stark, and the king himself, wanted him somewhere he had no choice but to go.

Gendry wandered over to the food set for him to break his fast. Same as every day, it looked delicious. He had eaten better this past fortnight than he had for his entire life. Each day he was served fresh fruit, bread, cheese, and pastries. There would be meat later in the day and always a cup of wine. On the first day he could only eat a few bites before being sick with fullness, but now he could nearly finish the meal.

“My lord, your bath is ready,” one of the servants said interrupting Gendry’s eating and his thoughts.

“I’m no lord,” Gendry responded out of habit more than distaste with the title.

“Lord Stark has told us to treat you as an honored guest,” the same servant replied. When Gendry didn’t reply and just stared at him, he added, “The bath, my lord.”

“I’ll go take your bloody bath, but cut it out with the m'lord horse shit,” Gendry said harshly.

“What am I to call you if not my lord?” the boy asked exasperatedly.

“My name is Gendry,” Gendry said simply.

“Then the bath…Gendry,” the servant said.

Gendry grunted and followed the servant to the bath. The other servant was already in the washroom pouring oils and other perfumes into the water. Gendry pushed down his breeches and stepped into the water.

The bath felt unfamiliar but nice. The water surrounding his body was warm and it relaxed the muscles he hadn’t realized were tight. The servants came up to him and, ignoring his complaints, started scrubbing at his tough skin. They managed to get the dirt off but there was nothing that could be done with the callouses that had built up from years of work. Gendry grunted through all of it. It felt odd having other boys hands on him and he tried ferociously to get away from their prodding fingers. They would just hush him and tell him it’d be faster if he was quiet about it. Gendry ignored their request for silence and fought them the whole way. Except when they pulled out a knife, then he was still long enough for the servants to shave his face.

Finally, much to his chagrin, Gendry was clean. The servants then pulled out clothes for him to wear. They were nice clothes – silks and pieces of cotton. He touched them softly before throwing them aside.

“If the king want’s to speak with me,” Gendry said. “He’ll 'ave me as I am, leather’s and all.”

“Gendry, please,” said one of the servants.

“No,” Gendry said firmly.

It took near a half an hour before the servants finally relented. They said they would have to beg the mercy of the king but Gendry didn’t much care about that. He wouldn’t be trotted out in front of the King like a pony. He was a bastard smith's apprentice and nothing more. Why should the king get to see more?

When the servants deemed him presentable, even in his work clothes, Gendry was led by guards into the Great Hall. The room was not empty, but certainly not full either. The King was sitting atop his throne with Ned to his right and a cluster of other men surrounding him. None of them looked the fighting type all frail and weak, but he supposed their minds were sharp if they had the ear of the king. Below all the noblemen, there were a dozen commoners standing around the hall. None of them were dressed like commoners, but they all had the look about them. Their eyes were hard, skin dark and faces guarded.

The guards pushed Gendry into the room. He let out a grunt and a loud curse aimed at the guards. The word echoed around the large room catching the attention of all its occupants. Two dozen eyes, including the king’s, turned to Gendry. He shuffled his feet uncomfortably.

“Sorry, your majesty,” Gendry said looking up at the king and careful to pronounce all his words correctly. “I don’t like being pushed, you see.”

Ned looked disappointed, but the king let out a boisterous laugh, “Damn it, boy, even if you weren’t the spitting image of a Baratheon. Your attitude sure as hell proves you’re my blood.”

“Your blood?” Gendry said unsure if he yelled the question or whispered it into the room.

“Your grace,” Ned said jumping in. “I believe the planned strategy was to be a bit more delicate with the news.”

“We can speak delicately when they are all here,” the king said waving his hand across the room. “But look at them all. They may be bastards but they’re not stupid, I should hope. They all look the exact same.”

Gendry looked around the room again. The king spoke the truth. Each person in the room was of a different age, but they all had the same look about them, including himself. Most had tanned skin from working, but they were all clearly born fair skinned. Each head was filled with a dark mane of thick hair. Most had blue eyes but a few had dark brown eyes. Each a child, but all tall and strong. Gendry could see that many were just babes and all hadn’t yet reached their twenty-fifth name day. Gendry looked between the fat king and the commoners. There was a resemblance even now, and Gendry had heard that when the king was young he had not been fat but instead a fit and fierce warrior.

While Gendry was inspecting the king, the doors behind him opened. Guards escorted a boy a few years younger than him into the room. Gendry noticed the guards were handling the boy much nicer than they had handled him just moments before. The boy looked more like a lordling then a commoner. He was pale and his fine clothing fit him well. The boy walked proudly to the center of the room. He kneeled down in front of the king and pledged his fealty. Gendry wouldn’t have even known the words to say the formal action, but now he wished he would have had a similar entrance.

“Good, they’re all here now,” the king said after the boy's formalities were complete. “Ned, this was your idea. You tell them.”

Lord Eddard Stark seemed at a loss for words. After a moment’s hesitation, he stepped forward and addressed the room.

“As I am sure you are all aware by this point, the Queen is being tried for treason. She has allowed bastard children who carry no Baratheon blood to enter this castle and act as heirs. We must now correct this mistake and find a rightful heir. You were all brought here because you carry Baratheon blood, but more specifically,” Ned said and then cleared his thought looking uncomfortable. “More specifically, King Robert Baratheon’s blood. You are all the result of his seed. You are the king’s children.”

The room broke out in murmurs. With his earlier suspicions confirmed, Gendry remained silent. He looked around again and it was clear as day they were all related. They all looked nearly identical. Gendry looked up at Ned and wondered if he had known the first time he had visited Gendry in the Mott's shop. He must have, Gendry thought, why else would he have come.

“We would like to talk with each of you,” Ned continued. “And after some discussion, we will be asking a few of you to stay in King’s Landing to become the rightful heirs to the throne.”

“What are yew goin'a marry our mother’s, an' all?” asked a boy a few years younger than Gendry. He was thin and spoke like the boys in Fleas Bottom.

“Eh, yew still got a mother ter sell out, yeah?” asked a girl who looked to be just a year older than him. “Mine died years ago an' I’ve been whoring myself out ever since. You wan' a whore as the queen is that it?”

“Oh that won’t do,” said the annoying lordly boy. “You will need someone high born. I offer to stay and take the place as heir.”

“It ain’t no sacrifice, boy,” Robert yelled from his throne. “I’m giving you a kingdom.”

“Thank you for your offer Edric,” Ned said jumping in. “We will talk to you each individually and go from there.”

“What if we don’t want to stay?” a girl in the back said. She stepped forward with her question. Like the rest of the bastards, she had coal black hair. Her eyes were just as blue as the king. She appeared to be the oldest bastard in the room and, like Gendry, she wasn’t wearing fine court clothing. In fact, she was in pants and leathers. He had seen plenty of girls in pants before, but Gendry had never expected to see one at court. Though, he never expected to be at court either.

“What is your name child?” Ned asked softly.

“Mya Stone, my lord,” Mya said tilting her head down. “I was born in the Vale and still live their now.”

“Mya?” the king said looking up. “Lord how you’ve grown. I used to be able to hold you in just one hand. I brought you to King’s Landing as a babe. Do you remember?”

“I remember a man and then that man leaving,” Mya said and the king looked away in shame.

Gendry couldn’t decide if he envied her or pitied her. She had known a father only to be abandoned. He had never known one to miss him in the first place.

“You will not be forced against your will, Mya,” Ned said softly. “But we will go along with our initial plan, some conversations are best to have in private.”

Gendry wasn’t sure if Ned had said that for Mya or the king’s benefit. Maybe it was both, he thought. Either way, Ned announced they would be taking them by age and Mya was to go first. The girl grumbled but she went out the door with Ned and the king, all the same.

A few of the bastards started talking to each other. Two of them were so young they were still in the arms of their mothers. The two women spoke quietly together as if sharing a secret. Gendry moved against a wall and took a seat. He watched the room but didn’t speak to anyone. He counted fourteen in total including himself and Mya. Most of the children were aged between four and eleven. They talked with each other but seemed too young to comprehend what was going on around them. Gendry realized he was one of the oldest in the room and definitely the oldest boy.

Gendry couldn’t understand why they were calling on the king’s bastards to be the heir. The king was still relatively young. He had time to father more children. Surely they would have a better claim to the throne than any of the bastards in this room.

Gendry remained in his thoughts for nearly an hour before the doors opened again. Mya walked in and took a seat against a wall opposite him. The guards called the name Bella and the girl who had claimed herself a whore walked out with them.

Gendry watched Mya. He wanted to talk to her and ask about what the king had to say, but she had her head downcast and looked as if she didn’t want to speak. Gendry watched as the two mothers went up to Mya with questions on their faces. Mya smiled politely and said a few words, but it didn’t seem to settle the mothers at all. Both took their babes and walked away. Gendry continued to stare at Mya until finally she looked up and noticed him. She cocked an eyebrow and gave him a wry smile in invitation.

Gendry stood up, walked over to her and took a seat across from her. It was strange looking into her eyes. They were so similar to his own.

“You’re not staying?” Gendry asked.

“You don’t even know if they offered it to me,” Mya said with a smile. “They’re not going to ask everyone, you know.”

“The king looked at you with love,” Gendry said. “He didn’ look at any of the rest of us like that. I think they offered it to you.”

“You’re a smart one. If you want to stay you should make sure they know that” Mya said. She let out a breath before continuing. “Yes, they offered me a spot here at court and I refused.”

“Why?” Gendry asked. He wouldn’t have even thought refusing was an option.

“I have a love back in the Eyrie,” Mya said. “He’s a squire now, but when he returns and is knighted we’re going to be married. But even if I didn’t have him, I wouldn’t stay.”

“You wouldn’?,” Gendry asked shocked. “They have food and money. A life that, the likes of us, couldn' ever even imagine.”

“It comes at a price,” Mya said. “If I stayed they’d marry me off as soon as possible to someone they want to rule. It wouldn’t matter if he was twice my age or a brutal drunk or if I loved him. If I accepted their offer, my whole life would be for the realm. On my own, I may not have a title or money, but I have my freedom. I won’t give that up.”

Gendry looked down at her dirty clothes so similar to his own. He thought about what she said. He wanted freedom as well, but what good was being free if he didn’t have a life to live. Gendry didn’t realize he voiced the thought out loud until she was responding.

“If they offer you the throne that is the question you’ll have to answer, brother,” Mya said seriously.

Gendry wanted to answer, but a moment later the door was opening and Bella came in. She looked angry and the guards had their arms around her as if to restrain her, but she wasn’t fighting them. At least not anymore.

“They only wan' maidens,” Bella screamed grabbing the attention of the whole room. “A whore’s not good enough ter marry out. We’ve already been sold already.”

Gendry shared a look with Mya. He heard a girl gasp and he looked over to see a beautiful girl a few years younger than him put a hand to her mouth. They made eye contact. She had a look of pure panic on her face. Gendry gave her a small smile trying to reassure her.

One of the guards grunted at Bella to be quiet and then pushed her into the room. They called Gendry’s name. Mya gave him a nod before he stood cautiously and walked out the door. The walk was short and the guards only took him to the neighboring room. It looked as if it operated as a council meeting space. There was a long table at the center of the room. One large chair was placed at the head of the table and on it sat the king. Six chairs were on either side of the table and held men of all sorts, including Ned Stark. Finally, an empty chair sat across from the king at the other head of the table. Gendry assumed that was meant for him so he walked over and took a seat.

“Interesting,” Varys said. “The other two waited to be asked to sit, and hum, I suspect the rest will as well.”

“Lack of respect,” Ser Barristan said.

“Don’t have much need for respect, where I’m from,” Gendry replied. “I was meant to sit here, wasn’ I? What does it matter if I ask permission or not?”

The king laughed from his seat, but the rest of the room looked aghast. Even Ned shook his head. The day before or even a few hours ago, Gendry would never have been so bold in front of the king but now, he had seen Mya’s courage and it sparked the same flame in him. These high titled men needed him and they needed the bastards outside.

“How very interesting,” Varys said finally ending the silence. “Shall we start?”

“Yes,” Ned said. “Pycelle, with your questions.”

“Right, what is your age boy?”

“I don’ know,” Gendry said. Usually, he would be embarrassed but it was the king’s fault he didn’t know, so what did he have to be embarrassed about. “My master says I look about fifteen..”

“Where were you born?”

“King’s Landin',” Gendry said.

“Who was your mother?”

“Don’ know that either,” Gendry said. “She worked in an alehouse, which I remember because we used to live there when I was real little. She had blonde hair and brown eyes. I remember that too.”

The questions went on and on about his health, history, family and if he had any bastards himself. He answered them all as honestly as he could but for the most part, he didn’t have any answers at all. Finally, Pycelle was done and a man they called Renly started asking questions. Gendry noticed that they looked strikingly similar and he guessed that he was also related to the king but obviously not a son. Renly’s questions were all about Gendry’s skills as a fighter. He answered honestly, he had no training but could take anything with a hammer. Again, this made the king laugh. After Renly was done, Vary’s began to ask him questions about the realm. He didn’t know many of those except what he’d picked up from people visiting Mott's shop but he tried his best and noticed Ned smiling a few times. After that, they seemed to be done and waiting for something.

“You are my oldest boy,” the king said.

“I have not been claimed,” Gendry said raising an eyebrow. “I am just a bastard who may be fifteen.”

The king laughed, “That you are, but I’m thinking about claiming you now and then you’d be my oldest boy. Do you know what that means?”

“It would mean I’d be king,” Gendry said. He tried to swallow but his mouth was too dry. Gendry had gone along with the questions and heard the king in the throne room, but he hadn’t considered the actual possibility of them choosing him. Surely they’d want the fancy looking bastard or one of the babes to mold into a king – not him.

“Well, I’m not dead yet,” the king laughed. “But yes, when I die it would mean you’d become king or earlier if I can toss it off on you.”

“Your grace,” Petyr Baelish said. “I want to raise the concerns, again. I do not think this is the wisest course of action. We can find you a highborn wife and you can make a suitable heir.”

“I don’t want to wait another decade or more!” the king yelled. “Besides, I’ve already had a highborn wife and she nearly brought this reign to an end. Was that the wisest course of action Lord Baelish?”

“No, your grace,” Lord Baelish whispered and then said no more.

“No, now, we’re talking about this boy, ah, ah,” the king said. He took a moment to think and then Ned whispered over to him. “Ah, right, Gendry! Shall we turn you into Prince Gendry?”

“You wan' me to stay?” Gendry asked stupidly.

“Yes, Gendry, we’d like you to stay,” Ned said. He looked Gendry in the eye when he said it, and all at once Gendry felt the weight of what they were offering. He thought of Mya and her immediate dismissal of what the king was offering. She clung to her freedom, but she also had a lover and a life to return to in the Eyrie. He had nothing but the smith in the lowest levels of King’s Landing. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to be king, but he knew he wasn't ready to let his life mean nothing. 

“I’ll stay,” Gendry said looking up and directly at the king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Does writing in the accent annoy you? Please let me know. I purposefully made Gendry's accent not as strong as some of the other kids, but I'm not super confident in it. Either way, I see it fading out the longer he's at court with one major exception.


	3. Arya - 1

_Arya - 1_

Arya hated feasts. Every time the king called all the noble lords and ladies together she had to

wear in a tight dress and sit quietly through a long dinner. She was struggling through both tasks when Septa Mordane harshly whispered under her breath for Arya to mind her posture. Arya straightened her spine and suppressed her immediate desire to roll her eyes. 

The night’s feast was meant to celebrate the new heirs to the throne. The king had yet to make the announcement, but Arya’s father had told her in an attempt to coax her from her room without too much of a fuss. When Arya had refused to let Septa Mordane enter the room to prepare her, Arya’s father had strode confidently into the room. He perched on her bed and leaned down until his lips were near her ear. Then, in a soft whisper, her father had told her the royal secret and made her promise not to tell. The gesture reminded her of Jon. Back in Winterfell, he would always be telling her secrets that only she was meant to hear because he trusted her to keep them. Those secrets had usually been about old Nan having something stuck in her teeth not the next ruler of Westeros. She much preferred Jon’s secrets over her father’s.

“Septa,” Sansa asked pulling Arya back to the crowded hall. “Why are there empty chairs at the king’s table?”

“I don’t know, my dear,” Septa Mordane said. “Perhaps there will be guests of honor.”

“At the king’s table?” Sansa said more than asked. “That seems rather odd.”

“Well, perhaps, they forgot to remove settings what with the, hum, change of, hum, titles,” Septa Mordane stuttered out.

Arya thought that was a rather nice way of putting the act of treason that Cersei Lannister had committed. Arya had always known there was something wrong with Joffrey. Treats him right to be a bastard and lose everything, she thought. She hoped he froze on the Wall. As soon as Arya had the thought, she regretted it. Her mind went to Jon again. He was on the Wall and if Joffrey was sent there that would mean Jon would have to live with Joffrey for the rest of his life. Arya didn’t want Joffrey near Sansa or herself, but banishing him to Jon didn’t seem quite fair either.

Arya looked to Sansa. She was smiling prettily and listening to something Jeyne Poole, sitting by Sansa’s side, was saying. She wondered if Sansa missed Joffrey, after all, they were betrothed and Sansa had been so willfully blind to his evils. Arya looked at Sansa’s smiling face and tried to see, the way Syrio Forel had taught her, but all she saw was Sansa’s smile. Not happiness, not sadness just a vacant, pretty smile.

“Sansa,” Arya said to get her attention, “are you okay, with Joffrey gone I mean?”

“Of course, I’m fine,” Sansa said but Arya saw that her smile faltered, only for a moment, but a chink in her armor did appear.

“He was a cruel boy,” Arya said trying to sound kind. “I am happy that you will have the opportunity for a much better match.”

“He was meant to be king and I would have been his queen,” Sansa said finally letting her smile drop. “Who could possibly be a better match for me?”

“Maybe there will be a new heir,” Arya said thinking about the news her father had shared. Then remembering it was meant to be a secret she added. “And being queen is not the only thing that matters. In fact, it sounds tiresome.”

“Of course you would think that,” Sansa said. “I deserve to be queen and I almost had it. The new heir has not even been born yet and I am already much too old to marry someone who hasn’t even been born.”

Arya didn’t want to correct her so she just nodded and turned away from Sansa. She never understood why Sansa wanted to be queen. Arya didn’t even like being a lady. She hoped she’d never have to marry a lord and have little lord babies. She wanted to be a knight or a water dancer.

When the king entered the room, Arya was far away lost in her daydreams of duels and battles that she would likely never face. The crowd’s uproar quickly brought her focus back to the feast. This was the first time the king had made an appearance in court since the Lannister’s arrest. Arya had expected him to look different somehow. She thought that he might have learned some greater lesson from the ordeal and start to look more like the noble king her father had always described him as. Instead, he looked just as plumb and red-faced as ever.

The king labored into the room. It was slow work smiling and greeting ever lord he passed. He eventually made it to his spot at the head of the Great Hall. He lifted his hands in an obvious request for silence. The room immediately quieted down until you could hear a pin drop.

“Lords and Ladies, thank you for being with us tonight. I know that there have been rumors and allegations moving around this castle. Some of them are true, but most of them are completely false, so let me set you all straight. It is true that Cersei Lannister has committed treason. She was found guilty by my small council. Her children are not mine and will face exile. The kingdom has had a troubling few days, but we are still standing. I have told you the past now to the future. I have chosen a new heir.”

Sansa audibly gasped and Septa Mordane huffed, but their sounds were drowned out by the murmurs that broke out around the room. The king has chosen an heir to the throne how odd, they whispered. He can’t just pick a king it is a birthright, some mumbled. Even, hope that the king would choose their own household could be heard from a few of the more few naïve lords.

“I have children. Unclaimed until now but some nearly grown and with the Baratheon blood. Meet your new princes and princess. Prince Edric Baratheon, Princess Frayrid Baratheon, and Prince and heir to the throne Gendry Baratheon.”

The king said each name with a sweep of his hand and a child emerge from a door behind the king. Each came out a little differently. Edric strode with all the pride of a prince. Frayrid kept her eyes downcast and only looked up shyly once or twice. Gendry was neither bold nor shy and with each step, he somehow seemed both comfortable and uncomfortable with his surroundings. He walked with his head held high, but his eyes darted around the room like a trapped animal. To Arya, it seemed as if he was afraid someone would jump out at him with a sword drawn.

The crowd seemed unsure of how to react. They stared at each child if you could even call them that, Gendry looked in his mid-teen years and even Edric, the youngest, looked to be about Arya’s age. The silence hung in the air for a moment before the king noticed it.

“There you have it! Now drink and be merry. The realm is safe,” the king yelled throwing up his flagon of wine.

The crowd broke out into a cheer. Most of the group looked genuinely pleased, but a few of the higher born lords’ smiles looked forced. Arya could hear their mumblings about false kings and incompetent bastards. She felt her blood boil.

“Just because they’re bastards doesn’t mean they aren’t capable of being a great king,” Arya told one pair of passerbyers. She wanted to yell, but instead, she said it in a harsh but low voice. They still heard her and scoffed at the idea.

Already, Arya thought all three of the bastards looked fitter to rule the realm than Joffrey ever did. Arya let her eyes slip towards the bastards again. All three were standing near their father, but Edric was the only one that looked close to him. Edric’s eyes were cast up towards him and he was so close his clothes brushed up against the kings. The other two kept a respectful but noticeable distance and their eyes seemed to be looking anywhere but in the king’s direction.

Arya wondered what it would have been like to be raised a commoner and then thrust into court. She looked at Gendry, the oldest of the bastards and future king. He looked so ordinary. He was neither pretty nor gallant. He had been well cleaned and dressed, of course, but some things couldn’t be hidden. His skin was leathery and his hair was short. His movements were agile but not graceful. She was sure he could be lethal but she suspected he would lose almost instantaneously in any knight’s tournament. He was no prince, but there he was not only a prince but future king. Arya’s staring was interrupted when Gendry’s eyes suddenly darted to hers.

A proper lady would have looked away, that is what Sansa would have done, but Arya had never been a very good lady and Gendry didn’t know the customs anyway, so she kept staring. Gendry’s eyes seemed to be looking her over in the same way that she had just moments before assessed him. Arya wondered what he saw. Was she full of the same contradictions?

Arya was unwilling to be the first to look away but she was growing impatient. Gendry seemed to be just as unwilling to look elsewhere and before she was aware of it they had entered into a staring match that she was determined to win. Finally, Arya smiled. It wasn’t the large grin she would have given Jon or the coy smile Septa Mordane had taught her, but just a friendly welcome. As if it were magic the smile worked, Gendry returned the smile looked her over once more and then broke eye contact. She had won.

Arya turned her eyes away a moment later. She felt uncomfortable, but when she looked around no one seemed to have noticed the moment she had shared with Gendry, which seemed ludicrous. Their stare had left her breathless and seemed to have lasted for an hour, but the room kept moving as if nothing had happened.

Gendry, Frayrid, and Edric took their seats after the king finally finished speaking. The room was arranged in its typical fashion for feasts. The crowd was far larger than any secondary hall could seat so the Great Hall had been arranged. The room was filled with tables and benches which sat lords, ladies, knights and, even, members of the lower households. The king always sat at the front of the room in a large chair and table raised higher than the rest of the room’s occupants. Those who sat with the king was custom to change. On this day, Renly Baratheon and Eddard Stark sat at the ends of the table and his children filled in the previously empty seats. Gendry sat in-between the Hand and the king. His place just to the king’s right symbolic of his new position. The other two siblings sat to the king’s left first Edric and then Frayrid.

When the royal family finally sat, the king commanded the room to continue drinking and eating before immediately partaking in the aforementioned delights himself. The room quickly followed him and the sounds of merriment filled the room once again.

Arya returned to her plate eating silently and only occasionally stealing glances at the head table. She noticed Gendry look her way a few times, but every time she would attempt to return the gaze his eyes shifted away. She found it so frustrating that she eventually stopped looking. After nearly a half hour of only focusing on her plate, Arya’s thoughts were interrupted.

“Girls,” Septa Mordane said. “You have yet to greet your lord-father and you must introduce yourself to the new princes and princess.”

Arya would have normally groaned at the practiced courtesies, but on this day she was more interested in meeting the new royalty than sitting quietly through the rest of the meal. She nodded to Septa Mordane and then stood. She was surprised to see Sansa silently following her. It wasn’t that she expected Sansa to put up a fight, on the contrary, Arya had expected Sansa to eagerly rush to the new prince’s side. Arya looked at Sansa curiously and was given a glare in return.

“Don’t you want to meet the new prince?” Arya whispered as they walked to the royal table.

“I’ve already lost my prince,” Sansa said dramatically. “I don’t want another, especially if he’s practically a commoner.”

Arya would have replied, but they had reached the table.

“Girls, you both look lovely this evening,” her father said peering down at them from his high spot on the table. The king was in a heated discussion with a nobleman, but Gendry looked at them curiously.

“Thank you, father,” Sansa said with a bow of her head.

Septa Mordane gave a pointed look to Arya, but when Arya didn’t say anything Septa Mordane said, “The young ladies came to say their congratulations to the new royal children.”

“Of course,” her father said nodding towards Gendry. “Prince Gendry, may I introduce you to my daughters Sansa and Arya Stark.”

“My prince,” Sansa said with a perfect curtsy. Her tone was formal and cold. Gendry gave her a tiny nod in return.

“Your grace,” Arya said. She attempted a curtsy as well, but Arya’s was performed with swift uncertainty instead of practiced grace like her sister’s. Gendry nodded at her as well but now his mouth was formed into a tiny smirk as if he was laughing at her poor excuse for a curtsy.

“It is my pleasure to meet you both,” Gendry said slowly as if he was uncertain of each word. Even though the words he chose were fine his commoner accent was noticeable. The consonants were said harshly and he clipped a few words shorter than they should have been.

“Are you finding your transition enjoyable, my lord?” Sansa asked.

“Err,” Gendry stuttered. He pushed his hand through his hair as if he was stressed to be forced to continue talking. “Yes, it’s all very…majestic.”

Arya laughed. She couldn’t help herself. Septa Mordane glared at her and her father shook his head.

“Majestic hardly means you’re enjoying yourself,” Arya said still laughing. “It means uncomfortable clothes and constant supervision.”

“Arya,” her father said wearily, but he stopped when Gendry laughed.

“And are you finding your stay in the castle enjoyable, m’lady?” Gendry asked through a smirk. Arya felt her own cheeks rise when he clipped the “my” in a very unprincely fashion.

“It certainly is majestic,” Arya responded.

Sansa’s eyes darted between the two as if she were appalled by the exchange. She finally broke the silence and said, “Thank you for your hospitality in hosting us.”

“You’ve been here for longer than I ‘ave,” Gendry said looking towards Ned confused. “and I don’t bring you your tea and supper.”

“As a prince, you are responsible for all that goes on in the realm and all that happens in King’s Landing is due to your family’s graces,” Ned explained.

“What about the children too poor to feed ‘emselves? Does that fall under our responsibility as well?” Gendry asked. When Ned didn’t respond, Gendry continued. “Is this my future? Praised for actions I’m not responsible for and exempted from the consequences my actions cause.”

Sansa looked stunned. Arya was too, but she suspected the thoughts running through her head were different from those of her sister. She thought of the Mycah, the butcher boy that had died because of Joffrey’s command. Joffrey, the Hound, and the rest of them had blamed Mycah but really it had been the prince and king’s command that had killed Mycah. For so long, it had felt like she was the only one to see that.

“The duty of a king, which you will one day become, is to monitor the lands and the people who call those lands home. How you choose to do that will be up to you,” Ned said carefully. He looked over at Robert. The king was caressing a serving girl and paying them no mind. Ned looked back to Gendry. “I have often told my own boys, the man who passes the sentence shall swing the sword. If your actions lead you to leave the children sick and starving on the streets than you should bear witness and the blame for that. An honorable king sits, watches and decides with his eyes never turning away.”

“I don’ believe I’m the blind one,” Gendry said angrily.

“No, I never said you were,” Ned said. He seemed to have a deep sorrow in his voice. He looked to Robert and then down at the girls, and to Arya, it seemed he was just remembering that they had been standing there the whole time. “Girls, move along.”

“Yes, father,” Sansa said nodding and already walking away. She looked pleased to be moving on from discussions of honorable kings and starving children.

Arya hesitated a moment. She had never heard anyone, except maybe her father, discuss lordship in such a way. She considered the fact that Gendry wasn’t a lord, and wondered if maybe that was why.

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” Arya said looking up at Gendry. He had been staring at Ned but at her words, his eyes went back down to hers. “I hope you never lose sight of the children that you worry for now.”

“M’lady, I hope you never lose your tongue,” Gendry said with a smile.

“Don’t encourage her,” Ned groaned. “Move along, Arya.”

Arya nodded. She looked back to Gendry and smiled one more time before moving on. Arya didn’t turn around, but she could feel Gendry’s eyes on her. She continued forward to meet up with Sansa and Septa Mordane who were already conversing with Prince Edric and Princess Frayrid.

“Oh, and here she is! This is Lord Stark’s youngest daughter, Arya Stark,” Septa Mordane said when Arya stood in front of Edric.

Arya dropped into her clumsy curtsy and said her niceties. Both new Baratheon siblings acknowledged her but they went back to the discussion they had been having. Arya took the opportunity to look at the two heirs.

Frayrid was beautiful, so beautiful that Arya couldn’t recall seeing anyone prettier. Still young, Frayrid was a girl of fourteen. She had the traditional Baratheon coloring with dark black hair and blue eyes. She also had pale skin that looked as delicate as porcelain. The only unBaratheon trait was her tiny stature. Though Arya had never seen a Baratheon woman, Frayrid tiny frame was a stark contrast to King Robert and Gendry. Frayrid had her hair pulled back in the Southern style and she was in a lovely blue silk gown that brought out the color of her eyes. Those eyes were looking curiously at Sansa as she spoke in detail of a perfect afternoon tea.

Edric’s eyes were much less curious. They were blue but darker almost gray and they looked relatively bored with Sansa’s story. Edric might have looked similar to Gendry if he had lived the same life, but Edirc’s wealth was just as apparent as it was on the Starks. His hair was well groomed and looked soft to the touch. His skin was pale and not touched by the sun. When Arya looked down at his hands, she could see that they were uncallused and his nails were finely cut. Having only just turned 13, he was younger than Gendry and the same age as Arya herself.

“Would you like to join us, Arya?” Frayrid asked. Her voice was beautiful and sweet, but she spoke slowly and softly. Like Gendry, she seemed to be searching for each word carefully and pronouncing them as if unsure how they should sound. Her accent was not as apparent as Gendry’s but it was present. 

Arya shook her head and focused back on Frayrid. She didn’t want to accept the offer not knowing what the proposition was, but she also didn’t know a way to refuse. Before she could decide, Septa Mordane interrupted and accepted the offer on her behalf.

“Lovely,” Frayrid said with a smile. The smile looked heartfelt and for a moment Arya felt guilty for wanting to refuse her offer. “I’ll be sure there are lemon cakes for you, Sansa.”

Lemon cakes, Arya knew what that meant. They’d be having tea together. There was no meal Arya hated more than tea because it wasn’t even a meal. Just another reason for the ladies of the court to sit together gossiping and watching the men do important work around them.

“Oh I cannot wait,” Sansa said looking genuinely pleased. “I am sure you will be receiving plenty of guests in the next few days and I am just so excited you’re making the time.”

“House Stark is a strong ally,” Edric said mater of factly.

“Oh, that isn’t why…” Frayrid said. Her eyes had gone wide and a slight brush went over her cheeks. “You, both of you, just seem so lovely. It would be nice to have a friend. I did not mean to offend.”

“No offense was taken,” Sansa rushed in quickly to appease Frayrid who still looked startled.

Arya glared at Edric. He had only been at court a few days and his first thought was of allies and false friendships. It happened of course, but he didn’t have to be so rude.

“We would love to have tea with you,” Arya said feeling as if she had been silent for too long.

“Good, if you are certain,” Frayrid said.

“We are,” Sansa nodded with a soft smile. “We should let you return to your food, but we will see you tomorrow Princess Frayrid. It was a pleasure to meet you both.”

Sansa, Arya, and Septa Mordane said their formal farewells and headed back to their table. When they were sitting, Arya felt eyes on her. She looked up to see Gendry staring at her once again. Arya cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow in question. Gendry nodded his head toward Edric and rolled his eyes. Arya laughed to herself and stuck out her tongue.

“Young lady,” Septa Mordane said sitting in front of her and blocking her view of Gendry. “Put your tongue back in your mouth.”

Arya rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t worry Septa Mordane. I won’t lose it.”


End file.
